Good Morning London!
by Cheesey Goodness
Summary: Sequel to Talk Show with Bartimaeus. Some of our favorite entities are summoned to be on a talk show! Remember, they don't exactly get along...What happens? Well, I'll let you use your imagination.
1. The Mass Hysteria Begins

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 1: The Mass Hysteria Begins**

**FYI: Yes, this is the sequel to Talk Show with Bartimaeus! But don't worry. You really don't need to have read that first. I may refer to a few things...but no major plot (what plot?) points! And it has nothing to do with a morning talk show...I just called it that...'cause I can! HA!**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy! **

**Bartimaeus: Of course you don't! I do.**

**Me: No. Jonathan Stroud does! You're just a character that he created with his amazing imagination!**

**Bartimaeus: No! I'm not made up! I'm just so interesting that he HAD to write about me to fulfill his destiny of getting a book published!!**

**Me: ...Yeah...Suuuuure...**

"You!" hissed a steaming Jabor.

The "you" was pacing back and forth between rows of seats. Rows R and S to be exact. Sorry...The "you" was Bartimaeus.

"Yes me. Thank you for pointing out the obvious."

A number (That I don't feel like counting) of spirits had been summoned to a studio in London. They included Bartimaeus, Jabor, Faquarl, Queezle, Ascobol, and Simpkin. Thank you and good night!

Ahem...

Bartimaeus was the only one pacing. He knew why he was there. He had encountered all of this before. Except last time he had arranged it.

"HEY! I asked if you know where the hell we are, oh genius!" a voice screamed in his ear. Our favorite djinni turned to see a certain Cyclops not at all respecting his personal space.

Bartimaeus looked around ignoring that last sarcastic comment. "Oh, I know where we are."

Ascobol glared suspiciously at the higher level djinni. "Do you now?" His expression changed to something close to mischievous. "Been enjoying the little kiddy plays like...Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat?"

"Yep! You know you would really enjoy that one!" said the Egyptian boy completely serious.

Ascobol answered in the stupidest-and yet most dignified-way possible. "No I wouldn't."

There was a snickering from somewhere. It was Queezle. "That will always be funny."

"What? Proving that Ascobol is as thick as he looks? You should try it sometime. It's really quite easy," replied Bartimaeus.

Ascobol growled at this.

Meanwhile...

Simpkin was cowering in a corner. End of story.

And they all lived happily ever after!

Yeah right!

Suddenly, a girl in her early teens came bursting though the door with an air of importance. Behind her trailed five camera men plus a woman (that still only makes five, people) and their cameras.

All of the spirits, except Bartimaeus and Simpkin, the latter still trembling in his corner, were ready to attack.

The Egyptian boy was already sitting in one of the provided chairs on the stage. He thought it was best to just get this over with. But without getting hurt-physically or mentally-in the process.

"Settle down everyone!" ordered the brunette as she sat the lone chair on the opposite side of the stage from Barty.

But why would some high class djinn listen to a little human girl. She wasn't even a magician!

"You can't possibly defend yourself from us! You aren't even a magician!" Faquarl scoffed confidently.

The girl let out some long pent up maniacal laughter. "MUAHAHAHAHAHA-(cough cough)...hahaha...(cough cough)...heheh...Damn! The effect is gone."

The aforementioned entities just stared.

The teen cleared her throat. "Anywho! I may not be a magician! But I have even more power than them!"

"She does..." interrupted Bartimaeus somberly.

"Stop interrupting, foo! Ahem...As I was saying, I am the author!"

"The author of what?" inquired Ascobol.

"Um...well...an author is more like a...social class! Yeah...I have power over everything! I'm like a god!"

Once again, the aforementioned entities just stared.

"So...What have you been up to?" asked Bartimaeus innocently, surprising the aforementioned, aforementioned, aforementioned entities.

The author spun around in her chair to face him. "Homework," she stated flatly.

"Ah..."

"There's nothing good about it and I think it actually destroys brain cells!"

Bartimaeus seemed to lose interest in the author for the moment. He asked, "Where's the other one?"

She looked confused for a moment.

"Slow humans..." the Egyptian boy mumbled.

"Oh! You mean Vicki? She's not an author this time." The girl answered.

"So are you just going to ignore us? Because that wouldn't be nice." Faquarl was suddenly standing right behind the author looking hungry.

The teen was completely unruffled. "I don't taste too good you know. Too many potato chips. Next you're probably going to try to trick me into thinking that you're nice so you can gain enough trust to eat me without a fight."

"How'd she know?" wondered a baffled Ascobol.

Faquarl seemed to revolve on the spot. He glared at Ascobol so menacingly that the Cyclops could almost feel his eyebrow burning off...Or maybe that's because it really _was_ burning off...Hmmm...

"AAAAAHHHH! MY EYEBROW!"

And for the first time ever, a blinded Cyclops was running around a studio trampling empty seat-

"About the empty seats," Bartimaeus said. "_Why_ exactly are the seats _empty_? Shouldn't there be, you know..._people_ in them?"

"Do you want the fan girls back?" the girl asked being falsely nice.

The djinni flinched.

"Didn't think so."

Queezle was very, _very_ confused at the moment. She decided to ask a question that everyone else was afraid to ask. "Who are you?"

"I'm the author! Get it straight!" the author snapped.

"Just to tell you, djinn aren't as slow as humans. And I'm pretty sure I caught on to that after the first three times you said that." Queezle answered defiantly.

"Well excuuuse me! If you want to know my name I'll tell you!" the teen pouted.

"Really?" Ascobol had calmed down after he remembered that he had the ability to shape shift and could just re-grow the eyebrow.

The girl thought for a second. "NO!"

**Who is this mysterious "author" person? That's a rhetorical question just to tell you! You all know who I am! So did you like it so far? It's not as random as the other Talk Show with Bartimaeus...But I totally meant to do that! Trust me...It will get funnier! Many chapters to go! Review!**


	2. On With the Show!

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 2: On With The Show**

**Disclaimers: ...**

**Me: Again with this!?**

**Bartimaeus: With what?**

**Me: With this!**

**Bartimaeus: This, what?**

**Me: This, this!**

**Bartimaeus: ...Oh...**

**Me: I don't own anything!**

Recap!

"_Well excuuuse me! If you want to know my name I'll tell you!" the teen pouted._

"_Really?" Ascobol had calmed down after he remembered that he had the ability to shape shift and could just re-grow the eyebrow._

_The girl thought for a moment. "NO!"_

* * *

"Two minutes!" announced the one female camera...person.

The author nodded to her before waving everyone to their seats.

They didn't move, but glared at her untrustingly.

The teen shook her head, disappointed. "I didn't think highly credited spirits such as yourselves would be so...what's the word? Um...oh well!"

She pointed to the chairs and the entities were flown there by her magical author-ness.

"Stay there! We're on the air in thirty seconds!" The djinn plus Simpkin found that they couldn't move from their chairs.

"Told you she was powerful!" goaded Bartimaeus.

The rest of the guests stuck their tongues out at him in unison.

"Ten, nine, eight, seeeeeeeeven, four, (long pause) GO!" The camera woman yelled a little too loud, nearly knocking the camera over in the process.

The spotlights came on.

"AH! Too bright! Too bright! I'm going blind here!" The author screamed at the light people.

As soon as the lights were lowered slightly, the girl smiled and, without realizing it, revealed her identity.

"Ahem...Good morning, London! I'm Stephanie and over there are today's guests..."

She pointed out each spirit individually. Each glared at the cameras in turn.

"Be nice!" Stephanie hissed, "If you're going to be here, you may as well enjoy it!"

Luckily there was no audience to look at them suspiciously.

Stephanie turned to the cameras and smiled. "Today we are going to be observing the lives of these very famous spirits. Would anyone like to start us?" She looked expectantly at Bartimaeus. After all, he had been the host of the previous talk show.

The mentioned djinni looked around and noticed the author's stare. "What? Oh! Me...Okay...how to start...well..." He cleared his throat. "I am Bartimaeus! I am Sakhr al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty, and the Serpent of Silver Plumes! I have rebuilt the walls of Uruk, Karn-" He was interrupted.

"Blah, blah, blah! Everyone's memorized this by now! You say it every time you're summoned!" a very angry cook said.

"Ah! It seems we have some conflict here!" the author announced receiving glares. "Uh...I'll just leave you to it!"

The two djinn faced each other again and took deep a deep breath-

"Um...Please...No fighting in the shop. U-use your inside voices," stuttered Simpkin, who was trained to do this automatically from working in Pinn's shop.

"What shop!?" Ascobol frantically looked around, "Oh no! Did I wake up in a shop again? I really need to stop passing out randomly...I could have ended up in a trash dump like last time..." He trailed off muttering to himself, twitching periodically.

Queezle whacked the Cyclops over the head. "There's no shop dumb ass!"

He looked around again. "I guess you're right...That's sort of depressing in a way..." He seemed to morph into emo mode.

Crickets chirped somewhere.

"Where are those cricket sounds coming from!? Why didn't you hire an exterminator?" fumed Stephanie.

Suddenly the sounds stopped. They all looked down. The camera woman was no longer at the camera, but was instead talking on her cell phone.

"LIZZIE!!" the author screamed.

Lizzie, who everyone figured was the camera woman, immediately hung up. "Sorry!" she called.

"You're supposed to be filming this for live TV! Who hired you anyway?"

"You did! Yesterday!"

The author had a subconscious flashback to yesterday.

She was walking down the hall looking for Lizzie. She found her by her locker being attacked by Furiga. She went up to the tall girl and shook her hand. "Congrats! You have been hired to be a camera person on a talk show hosted by me!" Lizzie looked confused as Stephanie walked away.

eNd FlAsHbAcK!!

"Oh yeah..."

"Sheesh! Do you have a short term memory or something?!" Jabor sneered.

"Actually, yes I do!" Stephanie almost looked proud of it.

The jackal-headed djinn just shrugged.

"Ahem...Anywho! We should talk about something!" the host said enthusiastically.

"What are we talking about?" Queezle asked.

The author took a deep breath... "I don't know!"

Insert group eye roll here.

Lizzie cleared her throat to get their attention.

They ignored her.

"Ahem..."

Random whistling emitted from the stage.

"Ahem!"

Stephanie glanced around. "Did you hear something?" She shrugged.

"AHEM!"

"What!?" The author looked annoyed.

Lizzie pointed to her own head.

Stephanie repeated the gesture, confused.

Nodding, Lizzie then pointed to the brunette's head.

By now the spirits were looking back and forth as if watching a game of tennis.

"What do you want with MY head?"

The camera woman shook her head and did some strange and complicated hand signals in the air.

Stephanie seemed to understand this. "No! I am not discussing shrunken heads!"

A buzzer sounded.

"Uh... We'll return after this commercial break! This talk show was brought to you by..." The author stared at the ceiling expectedly.

Everyone else looked up with mixed feelings of extreme fear and...well...no just fear!

When suddenly!!

A thin book fell into Stephanie's hands. She showed it first to the guests then to the cameras. It was The Cat in the Hat.

"Dr. Seuss...He makes you think in rhymes!" And with that...the cameras turned off.

**And the second chapter is finished!! I got 3 reviews for the first chapter! GAH! You people! Come on! It's the sequel to your favorite fic! If you liked it...well tell me! Click a button, type! Not that hard! Ahem... Anywho! Thanks for reading! Send me suggestions for future chapters! PLEASE! Thank you!**


	3. Things to do with Nothing to do

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 3: Things To Do with Nothing To Do**

**Disclaimers: I don't own anything!**

"Welcome back!" announced Stephanie.

"Yay!" said the djinn plus Simpkin as unenthusiastically as possible.

"Ahem! Anywho...We were just discussing what to talk about next, and since we always run out of topics...," a random old fashioned scroll flew from seemingly out of nowhere and into the author's hands. "So we've made a list!" She finished, smiling.

Suddenly, ringing filled the studio.

"Lizzie! I thought I told you to turn off your cell phone-"

The camera woman interrupted. "It wasn't my phone...I thin someone's calling the studio...:

Bartimaeus leaned over and muttered to no one in particular, "When did she get smart?" He was expecting someone, at least Stephanie to laugh...But of course...no one did.

Suspiciously, the host glanced at Lizzie before yelling for someone to answer the phone.

A girly voice came on the P.A. system.

"Um...Hi! Yeah, this is, like, Pizza Hut! Um, yeah...We just wanted to tell you that the pizza you ordered is, like, ready. Well, actually it's been ready for, like, two hours. We tried to melt the ice crystals off, but it just got all, like, soggy-ish! Yeah...So do you wanna order, like, a new one or something? Or do you just want the soggy-ish one?"

"Who the hell is this!??" The author screamed at the ceiling. "I didn't order a frickin pizza!"

"Oops...That was me," said a random crew member as he ran out on stage. "Yeah, I'll order another one! I'll have an extra, extra, extra, extra, extra, eeeeeeextra large pizza. With pepperoni, mushrooms, peppers, anchovies, pineapple, peanut butter, chocolate bars, an old boot, seventy-two raw eggs, some pickles-"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Good bye!" And ordered the phone to be replaced on the receiver, thus, hanging up. She then promptly fired the pizza ordering crew member.

The entities stared open-mouthed.

After a long pause, Faquarl's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Are you absolutely sure you're not a magician?" he questioned.

There was another long pause...

Then the host started laughing evilly. Suddenly, she got extremely calm. "Of course I'm sure!" She started laughing again.

The guests scooted their chairs back fearfully.

When the author stopped being evil (HA! Like that'll ever happen) she picked up the list of things to talk about.

"Ahem...Four score and seven years ago...er...I mean...Things To Do With Nothing To Do," she read. "Number one: ...Discuss shrunken heads?! Who wrote this?"

They all glanced down at Lizzie who quickly hid a pen behind her back and tried (and failed) to whistle.

The author growled, "We'll skip that one...Number two: Find out if a djinni/Simpkin can make random animals have opposable thumbs...Uh...We'll skip that one too," she laughed nervously.

Bartimaeus started fake snoring (or was it real . ).

"Okay...NEXT! Number three: Eat peanut butter. Hmmm...I like that one!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"Can we have some bean bag chairs to sit on while we eat it?" asked Ascobol making puppy dog eyes.

The host rolled her eyes. "Fine!" A bunch of bean bag chairs replaced the normal chairs and multiple jars of peanut butter appeared.

A buzzer sounded.

Stephanie scooped up some peanut better with a spoon. "Thanks for watching! We'll be back after this break!"

**Sorry! That was really short! Give me some more Things To Do With Nothing To Do in your reviews! Hope you liked it! I'll update as soon as possible! YAY! Review!!**


	4. Of Exterminators and Toads

Good Morning London!

**Chapter 4: Of Exterminators and Toads **

**Disclaimers: I do not own Monty Python, The Bartimaeus Trilogy, or Shakespeare! Or anything else! I barely even understand Shakespeare let alone write it! Although I would like to have The Bartimaeus Trilogy...nevermind...**

* * *

"Aud weer bawk!!" mumbled Stephanie, whose mouth was full of peanut butter. 

And since the author's mouth was full of the most sticky substance on Earth (other than duct tape), she was quite hard to understand.

"Wha?" asked the guests in harmony. (Their mouths were full of PB as well)

The host sighed (or at least tried to sigh). "I sawd, 'Aud weer bawk!'"

The guests looked at each other. "Wha?" They asked again.

"I sawd..." she paused mid-mumble, attempting to swallow. Feeling successful, Stephanie opened her mouth to talk, but instead chugged down a whole bottle of water. "Ah! I said, 'And we're back!'"

A wave of understanding swept over all viewers, expressed in the form of multiple, "Ooooooh!" s.

Crickets chirped.

"Oi!" The author said in exasperation, "Lizzie! Is that your phone again?"

Lizzie took out her cell phone and inspected it closely. "Hold on let me check!" Then the oh so famous camera woman flipped open the phone and listened closely before saying, "Hello?" When no one answered she closed the cell. "Nope...Not my phone!"

Suddenly the front door imploded and a stocky, bald man in a tan jumpsuit came running through the door. He looked around for a second in complete silence, and then took a walkie-talkie from his belt. "Bill? We're gonna need backup."

Crickets chirped.

As the host, guests, and crew stared in amazement, what looked like about twenty men in the same tan jumpsuits came through the rubble that was once a door.

Crickets chirped.

"Where are they, Fred?" asked someone who looked to be Bill to who was obviously Fred. (You get that?)

"Over there!" he pointed vaguely in the direction of the stage. "Now move it!" ordered Fred.

"Sir, yes, sir!" the entire group answered in unison. And with that, they ran off back stage, sending the crickets to their doom.

"So the exterminator finally comes..." explained Stephanie, shaking her head.

Silence.

"I'm really going to miss those crickets...There were no awkward silences when they were...still around!" the author burst into hysterical tears.

Silence.

"Well anywho!" Said the host, suddenly becoming cheerful again, "Let's see what's next on the List of Things to Do with Nothing to Do!"

Stephanie grabbed that scroll of doom and read the next "thing to do with nothing to do".

"Okay...Number four: Act out a scene of a Shakespeare play!" She grinned evilly, "I know exactly which scene you should do..."

Bartimaeus glared at the author. "You had better not say Romeo and Juliet..."

"No of course not," Stephanie chuckled. "It's a scene from Twelfth Night! Yay! Act I, Scene III actually."

The guests glanced around anxiously.

Bartimaeus (of course) recognized the play. "That's a comedy isn't it?" he asked.

"Oh yeah..." the host answered, snickering.

At that exact moment, something clicked in Lizzie's head. "OMG! We're doing that scene for Shakespeare Monologue!"

"Good job, Lizzie! Go get a biscuit for being so smart," Stephanie said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

Faquarl coughed. "Get on with it!"

Suddenly a girl about the same age as Stephanie popped up in the middle of all the seats. "Oh my god-" she was cut off by Stephanie.

"SHOES!"

Silence...Then a strange, disgusting croaking sound filled the studio.

"Ew! What the hell is that?!"

Heads turned as the source of the sound stepped out from backstage. It was a hobo. Um...yay?

"What are you doing!?"

The hobo (Bob? Is that you?) stopped croaking like a toad-

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

* * *

PARDON THIS INTERRUPTION FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCMENT! 

Angela: Toads do not exiiiiiiiiiiiiiiist!!

Random Gnome: Yestheydoexistandwecanproveitifyoucometooutmountainwecanshowyouinourexaminationroomandplus

gnomesarethemostintelligentcreaturesonKrynnsowewouldknowandBobthecheesyorohoboliveshereandeatscheesyorodogssomaybeyoushouldcom-**(1)**

Fizban: Nooooo!! Stop them before they bore you to deeeeeeeeeeath!!

(antsinasnowstorm)

BACK TO THE PROGRAM!

* * *

"Ahem," said the hobo. "As I was about to say...I was filling in for the crickets!" 

"Well you suck at it so leave!" The host screamed. "Right...So what were you saying, Kaitlin?"

The girl that had just popped up (AKA Kaitlin) said, "I was just saying that that was a Monty Python quote..."

"Get on with it!" Faquarl repeated impatiently.

"AH! You said it again!" And with that, Kaitlin fell over.

Stephanie laughed for a moment before 'getting on with it'. "So now we shall pick who shall play the characters...Which there are only three of. Hmmm...Queezle! You being the only...ah...she-djinn of sorts, you get to be Maria!"

"That's who Steph plays!" Lizzie randomly blurted.

"Yeah...So...I say Bartimaeus shall play...Sir Toby Belch!"

Kaitlin got back up. "HAHA! I play him!"

Bartimaeus twitched.

"And for Sir Andrew Aguecheek...uh...hmmm...Freckle! Err...I mean...Faquarl!"

"OMG! OMG! I play him..." yelled Lizzie, spastically jumping up and down.

Croak, croak, croak...

"SHUT UP, YOU DAMN HOBO!!"

The hobo burst into hysterical tears, and left the studio mumbling something about being under appreciated.

"Ahem...Anywho," Stephanie said, "Let's get on with it! Lizzie, Kaitlin!"

"What!?" They both answered, irritably.

"Give me your scripts!"

Mumble, mumble...

As soon as the author received the lines, Faquarl snatched one, curious to see the level of embarrassment this would cause.

"A lot...Trust me..." Stephanie answered.

"How did you-I-didn't say-you..." Faquarl stammered.

"STOP BABBLING, BOY! Ahem...I mean...I'm the author...I KNOW AAAAALL!!"

Then Faquarl ran and cowered in a corner with Simpkin.

The buzzer sounded.

"Uh...We'll be back after this break! Maybe we'll actually get somewhere-"

* * *

(antsinasnowstorm) 

Angela: Kiss a toad? No! Kiss a frog!

(antsinasnowstorm)

Random Business Guy: But wouldn't making Stride's flavor last longer make us sell less gum?

(antsinasnowstorm)

Creepy Looking Dead Girl: (climbs out of well and makes way forward towards screen)

(antsinasnowstorm)

Disembodied Voice: Get Rower's greatest hits!

(antsinasnowstorm)

Stephanie: No! Wait until this show's over! NOOOOO!!

Bartimaeus: This is quite strange...

(antsinasnowstorm)

* * *

Bartimaeus's face took up the whole screen as he talked directly to the camera's lens. 

"Don't go away! There are some...uh...'technical difficulties'...But they're being taken care of! We'll be back!"

* * *

**(1) That was a gnome from Dragonlance...They don't stop talking unless you stop them...**

**Translation: Yes they do exist and we can prove it if you come to out mountain we can show you in our examination room and plus gnomes are the most intelligent creatures on Krynn so we would know and Bob the cheesy oro hobo lives here and eats cheesy oro dogs so maybe you should com-**

**So how'd you like it! Longer than usual! YAY! Review please! I already know that I'm doing Shakespeare next chapter...But I could take some more suggestions. Thanks for reading! Good night!**

**Bartimaeus: But it's only 3:22 PM!**

**Me: Ah well...Review!**


	5. Shakespeare?

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 5: Shakespeare?**

**Disclaimers: Once again...I do not own The Bartimaeus Trilogy or Shakespeare! I admit it! So don't sue me!**

**Yes, this is part of an actual play! But, don't worry...I won't do the whole scene! I might skip a few things to get to the end...It's the best part!**

* * *

"Hello and welcome back!" said an exasperated looking Stephanie. "We shall now start our prefo-" 

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

(random color thingy)

(antsinasnowstorm)

"CAN SOMEONE FIX THAT!?" screamed a disembodied voice. "Oops...Forget you heard that!"

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

"Oi! Get a better freakin' tech guy!" Stephanie was facing away from the camera. "Okay..." she said turning back around. "We are now going to start our amaziliazing-"

Kaitlin got up from the ground (she fell over, remember?) to say, "That's my wooooord!!" She then promptly fell over again.

"-performance," the author finished sitting down in her chair.

By now the spirits had their scripts and were memorizing them already. (took me a month...an I only have eight lines)

Faquarl was staring at his in absolute disgust. "This is terrible! I'm not saying any of this!"

"Yes you are," the host ordered.

"No I'm not..."

"Well, what if I summon you even though you're already here, and then force you to say your part? You would obey!"

"Well I guess that would work...NO!"

"YEEEEEEESS!"

"NOOOOOO!"

"Are we in slow motion or something?" Bartimaeus put in.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESS!" they both answered.

"...Oh..."

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

"Oh, right! Okay! Let's start this thing!" said the author, now refocused on the task at hand.

There were some dramatic light changes and a spotlight focused on Bartimaeus slouching on a table in the center of the stage and Queezle standing next to him.

Suddenly, a great, booming voice spoke, accompanied by Faquarl, striding out from backstage.

"Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch!"

Bartimaeus sat up and said, "Sweet Sir Andrew?"

Faquarl strolled over to the table and acknowledged Queezle. "Bless you, fair shrew."

Queezle replied haughtily, "And you too, sir."

"Accost, Sir Andrew, accost," Bartimaeus sighed.

Faquarl seemed to think deeply for a second. "What's that?" He pointed at Queezle.

"My niece's chambermaid."

The cook sidled over to Queezle. "Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Then he turned his back and pretended to retch...Ahem...The three girls were near tears at such genuine emotion...

Queezle folded her arms across her chest. "My name is Mary, sir," she enunciated.

"Good Mistress Mary Accost-" Faquarl was cut off by Bartimaeus.

"You mistake knight," the Egyptian boy corrected, laughing silently to himself. "Accost is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her."

Faquarl opened his mouth...Then closed it and pulled out the script. He scanne dit quickly. "Oh! Right, right, right...What the hell? By my troth? What's that supposed to mean?!"

The host rolled her eyes. "Just say the lines!"

The cook sighed. "By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost?"

**FaSt FoRwArD!**

Faquarl was holding Queezle's hand tightly.

"A dry jest, sir." she said.

"Are you full of them?" the cook asked.

"Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand I am barren." and with that, Queezle stalked off stage.

**FaSt FoRwArD!**

"What is pourquoi? Do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting," Faquarl regretted, acting things out as he said them. "Oh, had I but followed the arts!"

At the time Faquarl was sitting on a chair behind the table Bartimaeus was resting on.

"Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair," the Egyptian stated randomly.

Faquarl looked confused. "Why would that have mended my hair?"

"Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature."

"But it becomes me well enough, does't not?" Faquarl flipped his now long messy hair in Bartimaeus's face.

(slightly inappropriate part if you understand it...)

"Excellent;" said Barty sarcastically, grabbing a piece of the cook's hair. "It hangs like flax on a distaff (a.k.a. dirty mop); and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs and spin it off."

**FaSt FoRwArD!**

"What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?" asked Bartimaeus curiously.

"Faith, I can cut a caper," Faquarl claimed proudly.

"And I can cut the mutton to't!" smiled the Egyptian.

**FaSt FoRwArD!**

"Taurus? That's sides and heart," the cook exclaimed, jumping up.

"No, sir; it is legs and thighs," said Barty. "Let me see thee caper: ha, higher: ha, ha!--excellent!"

And with that, the two djinn can-canned off the stage.

The buzzer sounded.

"Well, we'll be back after the break!" Stephanie laughed. "And here's the commercials!"

Suddenly all the lights went off. Then they came back on again.

"Sorry!" apologized a techy.

"If the commercials work," added the author to herself.

* * *

**And that's it! Did ya like it? I skipped the boring parts... Twelfth Night IS a comedy...It was quite funny have the characters in that situation! Review please! Suggestions needed! Other than being hyper...Which will happen...Thank you Cleveland!**


	6. Dance Party!

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 6: Dance Party!**

**Disclaimers: Don't own anything...or DDR...or Artemis Fowl...Bohemian Rhapsody is the bestest song EVA!! PLUS I don't own it! Oh yeah!**

* * *

"And we are back! Luckily the commercials DID work this time!" announced Stephanie.

"Yay..." said the guests as unenthusiastically as possible. Déjà vu!

"Anywho! Who wants to have some FUN!?" the author randomly bellowed.

"Not me..." muttered Bartimaeus.

"YES YOU DO!" yelled the host right in the Egyptian boy's face.

"...Okay..."

And then...Yet again, the door imploded and a pair of movers came in carrying an extremely large box. Bigger than a refrigerator box...Whoa...

Ahem...

The movers took the huge box up to the stage and started unpacking it.

"DANCE PARTY!!" screamed the author and her friends (Kaitlin falling over) at the same time.

The spirits backed away slowly.

* * *

"DANCE PARTY!!"

* * *

Oops...

FaSt FoRwArD

"Yer not an ordinary fella!"

Uh, nope...

* * *

Ahem...Okay here we go!

FaSt FoRwArD

"What do you mean DDR!?" asked an exasperated Jabor.

Ahhh...There we are...

Stephanie sighed, "DDR. Ya know. Dance Dance Revolution!"

The jackal-headed djinni stared at the host, completely dumb founded. "We're going to..._dance_?!"

"Well, yeah! _Dance _Party. It makes sense!"

Jabor's hands were clenched into fists as the author said that. And he was being restrained by Bartimaeus...

Stephanie whipped around to see the DDR board and screen sitting on the stage. She got a little sparkle in her eye as she daydreamed about torturing the djinn with it...and Simpkin...

She was awakened from this dream-like state by one of the movers coming up to her. "Here's your bill. Sign here."

The author stared at him. Then she pushed him off the stage and told him to go away.

"So! Who's up for some DDR!?" the host exclaimed.

But Kaitlin was already playing a game. You couldn't really say she was good at it...But she wasn't really _bad_ either...She was very excited though...

Suddenly a large book is thrown at Cheesey Goodness as she types.

"OW! Hey!" She read the cover aloud, "Hmmm...How to Stop Rambling for Dummies!? How dare you!"

Another book is thrown at her. "Sheesh, fine! I'm sorry!!"

The host looked around frantically. "How am I here...AND typing this...At the same time!?"

"How should I know?" said Cheesey Goodness.

"WHOO! I got a B!" called Kaitlin, doing a strange little dance...And falling over...

"Can I go?" begged Lizzie.

"No," answered Stephanie.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

(pause)

"Please?"

"No."

"Apparently begging does not work on you."

Ascobol looked defeated. "Aw, man! I was gonna beg to leave."

Surprised silence

* * *

"We need some lighting," suggested the host. "Ya know...To get us...in the mood..."

"That sounded really stupid," put in Bartimaeus.

"I couldn't think of anything else to say!" defended Stephanie.

"Riiiiight..."

"Humph!"

Silence

* * *

Stephanie was playing DDR against Bartimaeus. Surprisingly the author was pretty good...At beginner levels. Especially "Kick the Can"!!

Another book is thrown at Cheesey Goodness.

"Look! I'm not gonna stop anytime soon. So just give up!" she said angrily.

Suddenly, it rained books at Cheesey's house.

"OKAY! FINE!"

But, of course, being a djinni, Bartimaeus was better. He won with an A++, and Stephanie lost with an A.

Then all the lights went out again...

"That's it! I'm hiring a new techy!" the author disappeared backstage, and came back out dragging the current techy.

"You're fired."

Then the host picked up the phone and made a short call.

Five seconds later a centaur wearing a tin foil hat trotted though the door.

"Foaly! Glad you could make it!" said Stephanie, shaking hands with the centaur.

"What's with the hat?" asked Faquarl.

But Foaly just gave him the cold shoulder and stalked off backstage.

"It protects him from the humans...He thinks we can read minds..."

And so, they had special multicolored lights and a disco ball to accompany the DDR board. And their dance party went smoothly...Until IT happened...

* * *

**OMG!! What is IT!? Find out next chapter! Notice that I never really ended this chapter with a commercial...I don't know why I did that! Review! I already have an idea for the next chapter. But what about the ones after that? If you're a decent person you'll review with your ideas!**


	7. Sporks of DOOM!

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 7: Sporks...of DOOM!**

**Disclaimers: I do not own The Bartimaeus Trilogy or Artemis Fowl or Monty Python. I don't even own the punctuation marks!! Oh...And I don't own sporks...And if (for some strange and rare reason) you didn't know, sporks are spoon-forks!**

_Random recap..._

_And so, they had special multicolored lights and a disco ball to accompany the DDR board. And their dance party went smoothly...Until IT happened..._

_**

* * *

**_

All the lights went out.

"Looks like every techy you hire sucks!" accused Lizzie.

"No!" said Kaitlin, her hands on her hips.

"That's impossible...Foaly doesn't mess up with this kind of thing...EVER!" Stephanie retorted.

"Why is this _Foaly_ so special?" asked Faquarl. "He's a freakin' centaur!"

A voice spoke. "Excuse me, but I could hear that!"

"How do the P.A. systems work if there's no power?" inquired Bartimaeus, standing up.

Foaly's voice came back on the intercom. "Because wires are for low-tech squares!"

Kaitlin jumped up suddenly. "Yeah, you tell him Foaly!"

"Besides, this isn't the P.A. system...It's just a really loud microphone." Imagine Foaly's gloating face.

"That still doesn't explain why the electricity went out!" Queezle interrupted.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" boasted Foaly. "The (insert really long technical term) has gone askew! I can fix that with a (insert another really long technical term) and a (insert _another_ really long technical term)! Duh!"

Everyone: (drools stupidly)

"Psh...Loser low-tech squares..."

"Who you callin' a low-tech square, you-"

"Lizzie calm down!" Stephanie scolded firmly.

"Shut up..."

Suddenly, a very loud bang emitted from somewhere near the fuse box.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?" the author screamed furiously.

Foaly calmly walked on stage. "Nothing really...I'm just replacing all the electricity with some fairy technology. You'll thank me later."

"But what was the extremely loud noise?"

"Oh!" Foaly shrugged. "I was just destroying the fuse box so it would be easier for me to install the new stuff."

"You destroyed the fuse box?" Bartimaeus said with mock horror. "Oh no! How ever shall we live?" Then he fainted. (Or should I say, dramatically fake fainted winkwink)

Foaly spoke, absently staring at nothing. "Yes, that's all very nice...Now I'd like some nachos and I'll try not to bother anyone anymore...Maybe..."

"NACHOS!?" Stephanie bellowed, but Foaly had already disappeared backstage.

"You really need to stop screaming," Faquarl said.

"NO!"

Faquarl hid behind his chair.

"Okay, fine..."

Faquarl fainted due to extreme shock.

"Um..."

_**

* * *

**_

"So were just going to attempt to continue the show in complete darkness!" Stephanie explained. "Trust me! We'll make it work!"

"Wait a minute," interjected Bartimaeus. "Why do the cameras work?"

"Because wires are for low-tech squares! Must I remind you so many times?" Foaly's voice rang out.

"Shut up, you freakin' centaur!" yelled Jabor in the general direction of Foaly.

"Who are you callin' a freakin' centaur!?"

"YOU!"

"Yeah well..."

"Okay! On with the show!" Stephanie interrupted.

Suddenly, something slim and white flew out of nowhere and hit the author in the right temple.

"OW! WHO DID THAT!? YOU'RE FIRED!"

While Stephanie was ranting, Bartimaeus picked up the item and examined it.

"It's a spork..." he reported quietly.

"YOU'RE ALL GONNA BE FIRED-"

"It's a spork!" the Egyptian boy said a little louder.

"I'M CALLING THE AUTHORITIES!"

"IT'S A SPOOOOOORK!" bellowed Bartimaeus, waving his arms around frantically.

It got very quiet.

"...Oh..." said the host. She then yanked the spork forcefully from the djinni's hand.

Kaitlin ran up to the stage and took the spork from Stephanie. She held it up to the light. "Yes, that is most definitely a spork!"

"Thanks, but we figured that out a while ago," scoffed Bartimaeus.

"Shut up!" Kaitlin then chucked the spork off stage and into Lizzie's head.

"OOOOHH!" Then she fell over...

"Sporks are the number one weapon of mass destruction!"

All of a sudden, a group of familiar looking people appeared on the balcony thing above the stage.

It was the exterminators.

"Take this! And that!" they yelled, throwing hundreds of sporks down at the guests, host, and friends.

They jumped down onto the stage. (How did they not get hurt?)

The aforementioned guests, host, and friends glared viciously.

And then...

"THIS MEANS WAR!"

_Slash! Clang!_

No one knew where the metallic sounds were coming from, since the sporks were plastic, though...Or did they?

_**

* * *

**_

Foaly sat in front of a large computer screen. On it was a panel of sound effects.

"Muahaha..."

**_

* * *

_**

And so the fight continued.

Until...

"STOP!" someone ordered from near the thrice imploded door.

But the 'warriors' didn't stop. Why would they? It's not like they could hear anything...

"STOP!" the person ran onto the stage and stopped them.

"WHAT!" they all yelled in unison.

"OMG! It's Sir Lancelot!" Kaitlin realized.

Hearing this, everyone raised their weapons of mass destruction (sporks) threateningly.

"...Run away! Run away!" And Sir Lancelot was no more.

_**

* * *

**_

Everyone was back in their places. The guests calmly (or not) sitting on their chairs, the author on her chair, Kaitlin...somewhere, and Lizzie manning her camera.

Meanwhile the exterminators were wrapped in duct tape and hanging from the ceiling.

A buzzer sounded.

"Okay!" called Foaly. "I'm guessing that means...commercials?"

"Sure...You had better make them work though!" answered Stephanie.

"Oh, yes! And work they shall..."

**And finally, the 7th chapter!! The whole spork thing? Inside joke...I'm not even quite sure how it started myself. Almost 1000 words! YAHOO! **

**So...Like it? Not like it? Tell me! Review!! Please and thank you! Once I get another genius idea, I'll update! But, I must warn you; that sometimes takes awhile! Thank you Cleveland! GOOD NIGHT!**


	8. Of the FBI and Driving

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 8: Of the FBI and Driving**

**Disclaimers: I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy, or Artemis Fowl, or the FBI, or cars, or X-box, or anything else! Right, people?**

**People: Oh yeah...sure...**

**This is sort of a strange off-topic chapter...The talk show part shows up later...But for now, just be patient and watch the action unfold...**

"Twinkle, twinkle little star! How I wonder what you are!"

"Stop singing, Nat!" yelled Bartimaeus.

Two black-clad people, who were more or less FBI agents, were driving in a sleek, black Ferrari. Quite badly if I do say so myself.

Surrounding them were extremely shiny but totally inappropriate gadgets. Including the windshield, which was blacked out as well as the windows, and yet still completely transparent.

(antsinasnowstorm)

Foaly: Courtesy of me! Erm...I mean all the fairies!...But mostly me! Only I of all the fairies can create such high-tech gizmos without the use of wires and other thingamabobbers-

Cheesey Goodness: Foaly! Must I throw very heavy anti-rambling books at you!?

Foaly: You can't do that! Only the Very Heavy Anti-Rambling Book Throwers (VHARBT) can do that!

Cheesey: I know...But they're on my side now. (points to self)

Foaly: ...B-but how?

Cheesey: I have (shifty eyes) ways of doing these things...

Foaly: Oh really?

Cheesey: Yesssssss...

Foaly: Where are they then?

An army of VHARBT appears behind Cheesey.

Cheesey: Right here. Attack, my minions!! Muahaha!

VHARBT: (throw very heavy anti-rambling books at Foaly)

Foaly: CURSE YOOOOOUU!

(antsinasnowstorm)

Uh...Back to the plot...

So the agents were decked out with all their gear, driving an interminable drive that took them all the way from London to the HQ of the Russian Mafia.

Halfway there, Bartimaeus fell asleep causing the Ferrari to swerve randomly. But Nat didn't notice...He was too busy playing a 'video game' on a cell phone that had been lying on the floor.

Suddenly, the djinni woke. "Hey! Stop messing with that! Knowing you, you'll end up killing someone!"

"No way!" Nat retorted. "Mr. Bleep-bleep was winning!"

The Egyptian boy sighed, "But Mr. Bleep-bleep doesn't take any part in Monopoly."

"Yes he does!"

"No he doesn't!"

"Yes he does!"

"No he doesn't!"

During this argument, their car had begun to go faster and faster, and it had completely left the road, heading for a cliff.

"Yes he does!"

"No he doesn't!"

When they were only a few yards from the empty air, Nathaniel happened to glance up.

"Uh...Bartimaeus..."

"No he doesn't!"

"No...uh..." the boy pointed ahead.

"No he...What are you pointing at?"

"Erm..."

The djinni followed Nat's gaze. "Oh..."

Pause.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"

BEEP...GAME OVER! (Yes...it was all a game...)

"Grrr! Start paying attention, demon!"

"Well maybe if you didn't insist that we play Monopoly while I was driving, that wouldn't have happened!"

"It's not MY fault!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't!"

"SHUT UP! WILL YOU SHUT UP!" Bartimaeus ordered Nat.

"NEVER!" Nat refused.

"YES!"

"Fine..." the magician pressed the restart button on the X-box.

Bartimaeus and Nathaniel were back to being FBI agents.

_**

* * *

**_

"When did that happen?"

All the normal people were sitting on the stage, observing a home video on a TV. (provided by Foaly)

"The hidden cameras don't lie, Barty," pointed out Stephanie, stopping the DVD.

"But I am too awesomely amazing to play such childish things as 'video games'!"

"Well apparently you're not."

"Oh, but I am!"

Multiple coughs that sounded suspiciously like "No you're not!" were heard.

"Ah, who asked you!?" the djinni snapped.

The guests, host, crew, and friends sat in silence.

Suddenly, another question popped into the author's head. "So why were you and Nat-er-John acting as if you were in the game?"

"We were being imaginative," Bartimaeus defended stiffly.

"Yessss...The answers are finally revealed."

The Egyptian boy rolled his eyes.

Once again, they all sat in silence, patiently waiting for the commercials to start.

"START THE COMMERCIALS ALREADY!"

Or impatiently...

**So as you know, Bartimaeus and Nathaniel were just playing an X-box game featuring FBI agents driving in a car. Also, Nat and Barty were attempting to play Monopoly while Barty was controlling the car. Turns out I had placed a hidden camera in the room and everyone got to see Barty being immature! Etc, etc...**

**Get it? Got it? Goooood...**

**Thanks for reading, hope you liked it, review. I will update as soon as possible! If you have any ideas, please send them to me! Thanks you Cleveland! GOOD NIGHT!!**


	9. Bananas

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 9: Bananas**

**Disclaimers: I don't own anything. **

"Banana..."

"Huh?"

"Banana..."

"Banana?"

"Banana."

"Banana."

"Baaaaanana."

This conversation had been going on between Bartimaeus and Stephanie the entire break and wasn't likely to stop at any time soon.

"Bananas in the morning! Bananas at night! I'll eat bananas any time I like!!"

"That didn't rhyme."

"It almost did."

Who started all this? You guessed it...The author.

AHEM!

A great booming voice was heard.

"STOP TALKING ABOUT BANANAS!"

"It was your idea!" Stephanie screamed back.

"FINE! I'LL MAKE YOU STOP THEN!"

Cheesey Goodness: (stops typing) Humph...My own self thinks she can mess with my awesomeness. (starts typing again)

Then they all spontaneously stopped talking about bananas.

"We weren't just talking about a certain yellow fruit!" admitted the host, smiling innocently.

Cheesey Goodness: Now that's more like it!

_**

* * *

**_

Jabor stared curiously down at the fruit in his hand. "Have you ever noticed how bananas kind of look like..."

"Bananas look like bananas! So shut up!" Bartimaeus interjected.

Cheesey Goodness: It seems that Plan A has not worked...Time for Plan B...

_**

* * *

**_

"Okay! On to our next topic!" Stephanie pulled out her list of 'Things to Do with Nothing to Do.'

"Number 5," the host read, "Favorite foods. Well, It's worth a shot..."

She rolled up the parchment scroll and chucked it backstage, knocking out a crew member.

"Ow..."

"Oh, suck it up! Ahem...So, Faquarl what's _your_ favorite food?" the author asked.

"Banana." The djinni replied almost automatically.

Cheesey Goodness: HaHA! The perfect opportunity for my plan to take shape! MUAhaha...

"Ah...Bananas..." Stephanie repeated, sighing.

Suddenly a pickle fell from the ceiling.

"Ooh...pickle..." the guests, host, and friends said in unison.

½ Cheesey Goodness 1 (Kaitlin): What kind of plan was that?

½ Cheesey Goodness 2 (Me): It'll take their minds off of bananas for a while.

½ Cheesey Goodness 1: You do know that one of the characters is you though...I'm pretty sure _you_ think the same way _you_ do.

½ Cheesey Goodness 2: Damn...

Stephanie suddenly stood up. "Oh my god...Pickles kind of look like small green bananas."

½ Cheesey Goodness 2: Grrr...Why must I think so much like myself?

½ Cheesey Goodness 1: Told ya so!

½ Cheesey Goodness 2: Shut up...

"Banana."

"Banana?"

"Banana."

"Banana."

"Baaaaaananana. Bananas in the morning! Bananas at night! I'll eat bananas any time I like!"

"That didn't rhyme..."

"It almost did!"

Director: WRONG PAGE! YOU'RE ON THE WRONG PAGE OF YOUR SCRIPT!

"Oh..." Stephanie and Bartimaeus answered together.

Then Kaitlin fell over again.

Kaitlin: What?! I'm very prone to falling over...

"Bartimaeus!" Stephanie suddenly yelled.

"Sir, yes, sir!" the Egyptian boy replied, saluting.

"Fetch me a TV! NOW!"

"Uh...There's been one on the stage since...one of the earlier chapters!"

"Oh yeah..." the author thought for a moment. "GO TURN IT ON!"

"Why?" the djinni sighed.

"BECAUSE I SAID SO!"

"God, fine..." He took two steps forward and pressed a button. How hard does it get?

Harder, obviously.

That dang television just wouldn't turn on. No matter how many buttons Bartimaeus pressed, the screen stayed blank.

"Dammit! Defective TV!" And within the next few seconds, the defective television was no more.

"You do know that it wouldn't turn on because the power is still out, right?" Foaly's voice rang out.

"It worked before the last break!" Stephanie retorted.

"Well that was my amaziliazing-"

Kaitlin jumped up. "AMAZILIAZING!" Soon she was yet again, on the floor.

"-fairy technology," the centaur finished, ignoring a certain hyperactive teen.

"And this one isn't?" asked the host eyeing a now completely horizontal Kaitlin nervously. (Hey, from all the head damage inflicted on her, her skull must be pretty soft (or broken) by now.) (Kaitlin: It's from all the head banging!)

"No!"

"Okay...Fine...So I don't get to watch TV!" the author exclaimed, angrily.

"You can always watch the Motorola commercial that came on your cell phone," Kaitlin, who had gotten back up, suggested. "Hello, Moto! Hello, hello, hello!"

The guests cringed at the bad Jamaican accent.

"No thanks..."

_**

* * *

**_

"So, let's move on to number 6," stated Stephanie, once again unrolling the ancient looking paper.

Bartimaeus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But, we never really finished number 5."

"So? We're moving on! I don't think anyone wants to go through that again, right?"

They all nodded anxiously.

"Right. So. Number 6," she read, "Uhhh..."

"Just read it and get it over with!" yelled Queezle impatiently.

"ALRIGHT! Number 6," the author said, smiling mischievously, "Most embarrassing moments..."

_**

* * *

**_

**How did I think to write about bananas? How do I think to write about any of this crap? Good questions. I'm not too sure to tell you the truth. Most fics have a definite plot, so the author always knows what they're going on about. But with me, I sit and think for a minute. And I say, "Banana...Yes..." And I write about bananas! Simple as that! No more questions!!**

**Review and go on with your life as happily as possible! (Who am I kidding, just R&R!) Also! Any embarrassing moments you can think of, either PM me or put it in a review! I only stopped there cuz I couldn't think of anything (sweatdrop) and to be dramatic! Thank you and good night!**

**Bartimaeus: Once again it's only 3:09.**

**Me: Shut up! Review! Give me embarrassing moments! YAYZ! ZOMG!**


	10. Most Embarrassing Moments Part 1

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 10: Most Embarrassing Moments Part 1**

**Disclaimers: I don't own anything you don't think I own. And if you think I own something I don't own, then you're stupid.**

**A/N: You're all going to be getting a lesson on the history of the United States of America in this and the next chapter! Yay!**

"Okay...Someone has to speak up!" Stephanie demanded impatiently.

The guests fidgeted nervously.

"Fine...I wanted to torture you all anyway! MUAHAHAHAHA! Ahem, excuse me. Who shall be my first victim?" The author pressed her fingers in an arch, grinning evilly.

"Hmmm...How 'bout...How 'bout...How 'bout...SIMPKIN!"

The imp in question involuntarily jumped ten feet into the air and landed upside down, stuck in the floor with only his legs protruding.

"I think that qualifies..." the host stated calmly. "Hem, hem! Now we shall go on to...erm...uh...um...hmmm...uh, uh, uh-"

"GET ON WITH IT!" the entire cast and crew yelled at once.

"OMG! I just said a Monty Python quote!" Kaitlin was 'hopping'...or trying to...

"OH MY GOD, SHUT UP YOU CRAZY HYPERACTIVE FREAK!" screamed Stephanie, standing up and waving her arms around dramatically.

The 'crazy hyperactive freak' was blown over by the force of the author's mad author skillz.

"I choose you, Ascobol!"

"Um...Pokemon? Yeah..." said Lizzie.

"HEM! HEM! So now, Ascobol. What's your story?"

The blond Cyclops tapped his fingers on the chair arm, trying to stall by any means possible. "Uh...Let me think about that for a minute-"

"NO! JUST GO!"

"Okay...My most embarrassing moment..." Ascobol gave in reluctantly. "It was three o'clock noon** (1)**, back when America was young..."

Everything went blurry and dreamlike.

Stephanie's voice broke through the calmness. "Whoa! What's happening here? AH! Stop it!" Her voice was cut off by Ascobol's narration.

"Four score and seven years ago..."

Cheesey Goodness: Really.

"I was walking innocently down the streets of Connecticut."

The djinni was _skipping_ innocently down the streets of...erm...Connecticut, when suddenly the sun disappeared and the moon rose high above the small town.

Cheesey Goodness: Gee, that sounded sophisticated...

Ascobol looked up. "Well that was fast..."

A man with gray hair walked up to him. "Time goes quickly when you're having fun! Eh, chap?"

"Huh? Eh? You're starting to sound like a Canadian!"

"Canadian? What's the meaning of that, boy?"

"A person from Canada!" the Cyclops shot back. "Who are you anyway?"

"Why, I'm Hyden von Schleidenhodensodenshoden**(2)**!" replied the man, smiling.

Ascobol's mouth hung open. "That...is the longest name...I have ever heard...ever..."

"That's how we do it in Sweden-oden-eden," Hyden von Schleidenhodensodenshoden snapped as he stalked away haughtily.

"MY FRIEND IS AN UNDERCOVER COP!? OH MY GOD, I FEEL SO BETRAYED!"

_**

* * *

**_

Cheesey Goodness: (checks email) Emails...5...Aw...2 more from Amy...(sighs) And three from...someone...

Bartimaeus: So you've stopped typing?

Cheesey Goodness: NO! I'm just taking a little break...Too much thinking at one time...

Bartimaeus: Ah...I see...(rolls eyes)

Cheesey Goodness: ACK! NO! THAT EVIL LITTLE WENCH! (ok...so maybe not that...)

Bartimaeus: Um...Do I want to know?

Cheesey Goodness: I was just sent a chain email...three times...About how an undead kid named Teddy is going to kill me while I'm asleep if I don't send this to fifteen people!

Bartimaeus: Undead teddy bear, eh? I can arrange that...

Cheesey Goodness: (gets evil glint in eyes) Yeeeess...But wait...I must first make a witty comeback!

(You people had better be ready for this! It's a good one!)

Cheesey Goodness: AHEM! Here we go...

Bartimaeus: I'm scared...Really I am!

Cheesey Goodness: ...If I'm murdered tonight by a dead kid named Teddy...I guarantee you that an army of maniacal giant squid will walk out of the ocean on their newly evolved legs, come to your house, knock on your door, and recruit you for their army. Then Dumbledore will become a general and Snape a captain, and you'll all travel to Limbo on a boat made of sticks and human hair. Once there, Zeus will come and suffocate the world with silly string.

Bartimaeus: You have a seriously overactive imagination...

Cheesey Goodness: So reply to this or Chuckie will arise from the vent in your bedroom and eat your nose. But, of course, Batman will come and make you a new nose made of gold. So remember, if you don't reply to this, you'll be known as 'Golden-nose (fill in last name)' for the rest of your very short life!

**(A/N: If you ever get a stupid chain email...I give you full permission to use this as long as you give me and my imagination credit for it! I can see it now...The Cheesey Goodness Revenge Quote: Use for all unwanted chain emailers!)**

Bartimaeus: Yes...Payback of the chained!

**_

* * *

_**

Ascobol: AHEM!

Right.

Ascobol walked over to a building with a sign on it that said 'Rakes! Buy one get one free!'

"Ooh...Rakes..."

When suddenly...

"THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BRITISH ARE COMING!"

Kaitlin: Hem, hem! I happen to be British!

Lizzie: Oh...KAITLIN'S COMING! KAITLIN'S COMING!

Kaitlin: Oi...

Extreme chaos broke out in the town. Panic-stricken citizens screamed shrilly, thinking that would help; animals ran amuck, causing the already distressed towns people to become even more anxious; a piece of toast flew above the scene in slow motion; cows jumped over the rainbow; the British troops marched into the mess while slipping on banana peels...

Everyone: (blank stare)

Ascobol: What? It really happened!

Anywho...The British soldiers just happened to see the rake sale and set off to get some.

Lizzie: Are we gonna fight 'em off with tennis rackets?

Cheesey Goodness: Lizzie, I...

Lizzie: And then have a water gun fight!?

Cheesey Goodness: Look, I don't...

Lizzie: And then we can-

Cheesey Goodness: LIZZIE! SHUT THE HELL UP!

Lizzie: ...

But wait! It seemed to be raining! But that wasn't water...It kind of resembled a certain circular and very colorful type of hard candy...You know the one. They each have an S printed on them...

Oh, come on! Skittles, you slow losers!

Ascobol: Taste the rainbow!

Ahem...

And then Patrick Henry ran into the midst of the battle and said, "Give me liberty..."

Lizzie: I could really go for some pasta right now...looks for pasta

"...or give me death!"

Lizzie: from backstage OR SOME PASTA!

**(1) On Jupiter, 3:00 is noon. Or at least, according to me and my friends it is!**

**(2) Yeah...That's pronounced Hi-den von Shly-den-ho-din-sew-din-show-din...It sounded Swedish, okay!**

**Hope you enjoyed the awesomeness! AMERICAN REVOLUTION! **

**Ahem...Right...The embarrassing moments are going to have to be split into...3 or 4 parts, I think. Ascobol has obviously seen what actually happened back when there were thirteen colonies and a certain king took over the world! By the way, it took me over a month to write that chapter...That is how extreme my writer's block was! **

**Anywho...Review please! Tell me what you thought! And don't worry...I have it all planned out...Almost...**

**But, for now...LET'S GO REWRITE SOME TEXT BOOKS!!**


	11. Most Embarrassing Moments Part 2

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 11: Most Embarrassing Moments Part 2**

**Disclaimers: I don't own stuff...Well neither do you, so just shut up!**

**A/N: More history class! It got too long...So I split it! I'm going to be finishing it up now, though, in this chapter. That second embarrassing moment no longer exists just because I don't have enough ideas and want to move on.**

Cheesey Goodness: Because I forgot to add them last chapter...

"We will now be going to the commercials," announced Stephanie. "This program was brought to you by..."

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...Nickelodeon!"

Nick, nick, nick, nick, nick, nick, nick, nick...Nickelodeon!

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...The Ants in a Snow Storm Corporation!"

Antsinasnowstorm

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...Spider Man!"

Spider Man, Spider Man. He can do what no man can!

My Spidey senses are tingling!

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...Stony the stoned Mud Man!" **(1)**

I'm a Mud Man and I hate demons! Ahahahaha! It's all good...damn good...

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...A certain cell phone company!"

Can you hear me now?

No!

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...Comcast!"

You can eat popcorn out of my head!

(antsinasnowstorm)

"...AAANNNDDD...Well, there are more, but I'm just gonna stop there."

Ascobol tapped his fingers impatiently. "May I continue?"

"Eager now, are we? I was under the impression that you were a little unwilling to share so much about your past at first," accused Kaitlin, who had been taking a short nap under the seats.

"Well...Who asked you!?"

So, the British came out of the rake shop to find an army of thirteen-year-olds with tennis rackets and water guns waiting there for them. And an eight-year-old. With a very large pinecone. (coughlizzie'sbrothercough)

Then, the citizens began to calm down. When they were all completely silent, Ascobol suddenly yelled, "RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!"

And so they ran.

And those meddling British ran after them.

_**

* * *

**_

"So...Let me get this straight," Bartimaeus said slowly. "The British...used rakes...as weapons?"

Ascobol nodded.

"And you were planning on fighting them off with...tennis rackets...and water guns?"

Ascobol nodded again.

"Water guns weren't even invented yet!"

The Cyclops looked offended. "Yes they were!"

"No they weren't. They were invented in 1982 by Lonnie Johnson!"

"Well...Who asked you anyway!?"

"God, you say that a lot..."

While this argument was going on, two teens had appeared in the seats, standing on top of Kaitlin. She screamed and stood up.

"Would you stop interrupting my sleep?"

"NO!" yelled Stephanie as she walked over to the girls.

"These are...Hey, get the cameras over here!"

Lizzie saluted clumsily. "Sir, yes, sir! Erm...Ma'am!"

The cameras in question were immediately swiveled to face the host. They lost a few of them, but there were enough to keep filming.

Stephanie sighed. "These are Kelly and Amy. They won't be staying for very long."

The one named Amy (we like to call her the 'hyperactive Asian'), who had extremely poofy black hair that stuck out of her ponytail at random places, punched the author in the stomach. "How dare you! My cat!"

The host straightened up and backed away slightly.

"Thomas Edison invented the light bulb."

This comment came from the other girl named Kelly. She was normal...To a certain extent.

"Guess what! November is the eleventh month of the year! I swear by all twenty-seven letters of the alphabet!"

This was a cue for Faquarl to say something witty. "There are only twenty-six letters in the alphabet, unless you're thinking of another language."

Bartimaeus seemed to have stopped his little duel with Ascobol and took that break to say, "You know, that really wasn't very witty."

"No, you're not witty!"

"Um...sure..."

_**

* * *

**_

"Eh? Eh? Eh?" The British were starting to sound like a broken Canadian record player. (No offense to Canadians and Brits...really...)

A certain cook appeared next to a British general. He poked him. "You're a loony!"

The British general got scared and took his half of the third of the troops with him back to Candy Mountain and Candyland National Park. (here's a llama there's a llama) (uh?)

As they were heading for port, they came to an abrupt halt. Seeing the aforementioned thirteen-year-olds (and the eight-year-old) sailing in on a stolen pirate ship and swinging over to the British boats on ropes, raiding them of their barrels of tea will do that to someone.

"What are they doing?" asked many a short-attention-spanned townsfolk.

Cheesey Goodness: slap I just told you, you yellow-bellied scallywags!

Townsfolk: Ow...

This occurrence would later be known as the Boston Tea Party. But, the history books haven't told us everything...'Specially since it takes place in Connecticut...

Bartimaeus suddenly popped up in the middle of the pirate ship.

"Oh God, there's more?!"

"Yes, there happens to be more! Does that bother you, my good friend?" asked the Cyclops innocently.

"Nope, not at all," Bartimaeus replied, and disappeared as instantly as he had come.

Ascobol immediately swam out to the pirate ship. He climbed on board. For a second, he was going to stop the adolescent pillagers from having a tea party. After all, he wasn't too fond of tea. However, he decided against this when he saw them dumping the barrels into the foaming ocean.

"Muahahaha! No more tea for you, foo!"

Tim runs on stage. "That rhymes!" He runs away.

Everyone who was taking part in the reenactment of Ascobol's memory was momentarily frozen. They came back to life as the Cyclops continued his narrative as if nothing had ever interrupted him.

Ascobol had started running towards the stairs, laughing maniacally. But, as he was running down them...He stopped.

"And that's when I saw it."

In front of him was the single most evil, most devious object on the face of this here Earth and any other planet or odd place in the universe.

"That's when I saw the...banana peel..."

The djinni knew what he had to do. In order to get to the barrels of tea, he would have to get down those steps. But, the banana peel was blocking his way! It wasn't going to let him pass, no way no how!

So, Ascobol did what any somewhat respectful entity would do...He was going to...Go down the steps. (Gasp!)

Then...The Cyclops ran down, stumbling over his shoelace quite a few times.

"That banana peel sure was a conniving thing. It positioned itself so I would have to step on it."

He slipped, fell, was trampled, got back up, slipped, fell, and was trampled again.

(Sad violin music plays)

Stephanie: Kaitlin, would you stop that!

Kaitlin: MAKE ME!

"That is my most embarrassing moment."

_**

* * *

**_

Back on stage, Ascobol was expecting either malicious laughs or utter shock. What he got instead was...Bartimaeus.

"That's it," the higher djinni said. "That's your most embarrassing moment?"

"Yes!"

"HA! I've encountered you doing much more stupid things than _that_ before!"

Ascobol frowned. "When?"

"Well, there was this one time a year ago when you had this sausage..."

But...That's another story...

BUM BUM BUUUUUM!

**Wow. That chapter was either amazing or it sucked. You decide! **

**Review, please, thanks, kind sir! And ma'am really...ya know...yeah...**

**(1) For all of you that have read the fifth Artemis Fowl book, Lost Colony, that should be pretty funny! For all you that haven't...shame on you...er...uh...I mean...Stony is a puppet. He's supposed to be a Mud Man (human) and he hates demons. I won't go into details! I thought it was funny that his name was Stony. Kaitlin made up the whole 'Stony the stoned Mud Man' thing and I just elaborated.**


	12. Tea Party

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 12: Tea Party**

**Disclaimer: I don't own. **

"I can't believe you brought up the sausage incident, Bartimaeus."

"Shut up, Ascobol. You know it was stupid."

"You know what—"

"No, _you _know what!"

"Um..."

"Yeah that's right!"

(antsinasnowstorm)

"And we're back!" The host announced to the viewers. "Now, we shall be taking another look at our list of 'Things to Do with Nothing to Do'!"

She pulled the scroll out from behind her back and unrolled it, trailing it across the floor as she stood up.

"Ahem...Number...uh, three, four, five...seven! Yes...seven..."

Everyone just stared.

"Right..." the author continued. "So, Number 7: Hah...this is good! Tea Party!"

At that moment, a delivery boy walked in the theater doors.

"Did somebody here order twenty togas?" he asked pointing to a large box he had set down by his feet.

Stephanie opened her mouth. About to tell him that, no, she hadn't ordered anything and to get out. But, she closed it again.

"Do I have to pay for them?" the author inquired.

"Uh..." the deliverer glanced at his clipboard. "No. They've been pre-paid."

"Well, then, yes! I did order those, thanks."

* * *

"There we go!"

Stephanie had just finished forcing the togas onto all of the djinn (and Simpkin), but, of course, not on herself. Her friends had put them on willingly, being the good sports they are.

"Why? _Why_?" Bartimaeus yelled desperately as he was duct taped to his chair. "And, by the way, where do you get all this duct tape?"

The author walked over to him. "Bartimaeus...I have friends in high places. Don't go questioning my authority."

He had a confused look on his face. "But, I wasn't. I was just asking—"

"I know what you were doing." She glared at him as she settled back into her seat and rubbed her hands together. "Tea time," she whispered to herself.

* * *

A small, circular table was set up in the middle of the stage, all the guests' chairs situated around it. On the table, a tea pot and cups and saucers sat so far untouched.

_I can't believe I'm allowing her to do this..._they all thought with _slight_ variations.

"Neither can I," the host stated under her breath.

"Once again..._How do you do that_?!" Faquarl screamed furiously, emphasizing every word.

There was no answer. For the author had gone to fetch Foaly from backstage.

**Operation room**

"NO!"

**Stage**

"Ahem! Now that we have our techy in a toga, we can begin tea time!"

Stephanie was sitting between Bartimaeus and Ascobol just for some separation between them. You never knew what they could do when they _weren't _armed. So, what could happen when they had cups of tea that could be used as potential weapons? Scary thought.

All of a sudden, the door burst open dramatically and a dark figure walked in.

Bartimaeus stood up. "Who the hell is that?!"

"Ah," the host glanced up from pouring tea, "That's our special guest..."

Dun dun DUN!

The figure jumped up onto the stage (with a little difficulty), into the light, and said, "NATHANIEL!"

Bartimaeus sat back down. "Oh, lovely..."

* * *

"So, then...uh...yeah!"

Nathaniel was standing directly in front of the camera telling some lame story about pie...or something.

"Get over here!" ordered the author.

He didn't turn around, but instead inspected himself using the camera lens for a mirror.

Stephanie got up and walked over to him. "We'll be right back after this break," she said while rolling up her sleeves.

"No! What are you...?"

COMMERCIAL BREAK!

"We have returned from outer space!" Stephanie now had Nathaniel taped to a chair next to Bartimaeus. He was in a toga with his arms crossed angrily.

"We're very glad you could join us for our tea party, Nat!"

The magician made no response.

"And I'm sure we would all like it if you would say something."

Suddenly, Lizzie jumped out from behind her camera with a big sheet of cardboard. It was covered in small illegible words.

Nathaniel looked confused and then squinted at the cardboard.

"What the hell does it say?"

Lizzie turned it around to face her.

"It says...uh...I...er..."

Nathaniel rocked back and forth in his chair restlessly. "Oh for the love of God, make it stop!"

"SECURITY!" Stephanie called, rising from her seat.

They all waited for a few seconds, and when no one came the author simply stated, "Well, I guess it's just me." And, with that, she whacked the magician over the head with the list of 'Things to Do with Nothing to Do', effectively knocking his chair over along with him.

"Now that that's taken care of, let's gooooo!"

Jabor pouted. "But I don't like tea! Or parties! Or tea parties!"

Stephanie looked at him with what seemed to be amusement masked with empathy. "Trust me. I don't like them any more than you do! I seriously failed the whole 'Manners Tea Party' from Girl Scouts in second grade."

"Then why are you torturing yourself?"

The host sighed, "It is a small price to pay for good television."

Jabor gaped.

"Yes. So, how are _you _liking this, Faquarl?"

The cameras zoomed in on him.

Faquarl was sitting next to an almost life size Teddy bear with an abnormally large nose, holding a tea cup out to the bear's mouth.

"Here's some tea Mr. Beary!" The djinni cooed softly. "Yaaaaayy!"

If you had seen this on TV, a large question mark would have appeared on the screen.

The focus was quickly switched to Queezle before it got out of hand.

She was the only one who had actually tried the tea. She sipped it slowly...and then instantly gagged.

"Ugh! Who made this?!" Queezle spat, obviously disgusted.

"Um...Not me...," Stephanie said innocently. "And it definitely isn't poisoned..."

As soon as this was out of the author's mouth, Queezle fell limp in her chair and started making a strange gargling sound.

The host laughed weakly. "Heheh...Oops?"

Everyone else immediately placed their cups back on the table with no hesitation.

Stephanie grimaced. "Damn..."

Nathaniel stirred from staring at Queezle's now limp form. "You obviously don't like us very much," he huffed.

"No," the author disagreed. "It's not that. I just thought it would be funny." She didn't laugh.

"Well, apparently it wasn't." Faquarl said.

At that moment, Nathaniel attempted to jump out of him chair for some dramatic effect. Sadly, he then became (quite painfully) aware that he was duct taped to the chair. So he settled for a little air punch and a big smile.

"I thought it was absolutely hilarious," he reprehended. "I believe that was the most terrific thing I have ever encountered! Oh, the adrenaline coursing through my veins! I was in danger for a moment!"

"You really were," Stephanie pointed out. "It wouldn't hurt them much, but just think of what it would do to a human. I tested it on a chipmunk."

Nathaniel looked at her, his eyes wide. "What happened to it?"

"It was never seen again, my good fellow. Never again." She shook her head.

"OH, THAT POOR CHIPMUNK!" Nathaniel wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Why couldn't you have used a plant or something?"

Stephanie sighed. "Because, my little imbecile, I am a meatitarian. I believe in kindness to plants."

Ascobol looked up at Stephanie. "So you're a tree hugger." It wasn't a question, but instead an exclamation!

"I am a _true_ tree hugger!" the author cried proudly.

"Hell yeah!" Kaitlin yelled from an unknown place in the empty seats. "But, we have some exceptions..."

Faquarl seemed to catch on to something. "Hey, wait. Tea is made of plants."

"Yeah, but I didn't drink any," Stephanie pointed out smugly.

"Well, maybe you should drink some now!" Jabor yelled jabbing (excuse the pun) a finger in the author's face.

"Um, if you haven't forgotten, the tea is poisoned..."

The jackal-headed djinni appeared to have some internal conflict before saying, "Oh, yeah...Well...SCREW YOU!"

The host stood up. "Aaaand...Cue commercials!"

**Thank you, thank you! Wow. No one reads this anymore...I'm just writing this for my own enjoyment now! And out of boredom...But, that doesn't count!**

**Whoever **_**does **_**read this, review! I beg of thee! I hope you liked that chapter. 14 hundred words! Or, at least, that's what Word said...You can't trust anything anymore...**


	13. Contest?

**Good Morning London!**

**Chapter 13: Contest?**

**Disclaimer: -does not own-**

"And we're back," said Stephanie as the camera panned around to where she sat. The guests had long since gotten rid of their togas after they realized they could just blast the duct tape off with Detonations. Except Nathaniel, of course.

"Why won't anyone help me?" the magician cried, kicking out at the air.

Bartimaeus smacked him across the face. "Why don't you learn to help yourself?"

"EXCUSE ME," Stephanie shouted while standing up and brandishing the list of 'Things to Do with Nothing to Do' menacingly.

"We are now on number eight!" She unrolled the parchment much further than necessary. "Ooh, a contest. A contest of...LEGO BUILDING. DUN DUN DUN."

Suddenly, a very large amount of Lego blocks fell from a large opening in the ceiling and onto the heads of the guests and crew.

The author brushed some small pieces out of her curly hair. She cleared her throat and spoke with a speed fit for commercial disclaimers. "The rules are as follows: The structure must be a model of an actual building and/or monument. Throwing blocks, eating blocks, destroying blocks by any means, making blocks potential weapons in any way, putting blocks in indecent places, hiding blocks, hording blocks, doing morally/politically incorrect things to blocks, using blocks as metaphors in racial or sexual slurs, disfiguring blocks, giving blocks personalities, and/or pretending blocks are something they are not are all prohibited by law."

The guests looked at her blankly for an instant before questions erupted out of them.

"What was the first part again?"

"Yes. And the middle?"

"The last part too..."

Stephanie mentally went over the rules. "Well, let's see. That would be--"

Faquarl interrupted. "Please don't go through all that another time."

"Fine. But you had better follow the rules. Or else..." She wagged a finger at them ominously.

"Or else...?" asked Bartimaeus. "What, pray tell, would you do to us?"

"NO SOUP FOR YOU."

There was silence for a moment.

"Sure."

* * *

The djinn and Simpkin and Nathaniel all had their share of Lego blocks which had been 'patiently' counted by the host's friends and Foaly who were now sleeping on the floor near the back of the stage.

"On the count of three, you may begin," Stephanie declared through a megaphone. "One...two..." She paused for some dramatic tension.

"THREE," she yelled.

However, Bartimaeus did not immediately start building like the others did. "You do know that my eardrums just imploded don't you?"

"Are you going to begin, or are you just going to sit there?"

Bartimaeus looked around at his fellow guests. They were nearly done already.

"Damn."

* * *

Stephanie held up a large red flag in front of the contestants. "TIME IS UP. PUT DOWN THE CHILDREN'S TOYS."

She had to hit the guests with multiple things before they finally stopped.

"Your structures will now be scored by a panel of judges," the host said.

"Panel of judges...ASSEMBLE."

This shout woke the sleeping crew members. They rose, grumbling groggily and made their way over to a table at the front of the stage.

"EVERYONE LINE UP."

"In what order?" Queezle asked.

The author grinned evilly. "Alphabetical."

* * *

After much shoving and reciting of the alphabet, the guests were in what they suspected to be the correct order. Stephanie walked over, and her gaze moved slowly down the line.

"Let's see. Your line goes: Bartimaeus, Ascobol, Faquarl, Jabor, Nathaniel, Queezle, Simpkin. Sadly, you're wrong."

Bartimaeus raised his hand and stated, "I know. I just wanted to be first," and gave everyone a dazzling smile.

Stephanie glared at him. "That's one point off of whatever you're rated for being an egotist." Bartimaeus pouted. "Let us carry on with the judging process." The host turned to the judging table.

"What're your thoughts?"

The judges all put their heads together and whispered for a few minutes. Then, Foaly turned back to the stage.

"Um, we aren't entirely sure what it is."

Bartimaeus looked indignant. "Why, it's the leaning tower of Pisa, of course!"

"But it's kind of fallen over entirely," Kaitlin said.

He looked down at his Lego creation. "Hmph." And he crossed his arms over his chest.

"All right," Stephanie said. "What are your scores?"

They went straight down the panel of judges.

Lizzie: TEN!

Kaitlin: Psh. Negative ten.

Foaly: Zero.

Nathaniel had been counting on his fingers. "That's a total of...Let's see, carry the three...Negative one!"

"Whoa! Why negative _one_?" Bartimaeus put his hands on his hips indignantly.

"You lost a point for being egotistical." Stephanie said matter-of-factly.

"NEXT."

Ascobol presented his structure.

"Judges?"

Foaly spoke up first again. "I don't know if you knew this, but this was supposed to be of a building. I'm giving this a zero."

Kaitlin gave her opinion next. "Yeah, I agree. It sucks pretty badly in the first place. That's a zero."

Lizzie stood up and threw her hands into the air. "You people are all so heartless! I think Asco-what's-his-face's **stiletto heel** is bloody wicked sweet! TEN!"

She was immediately pulled back down by Kaitlin. "Oh, God. Just shut up, Lizzie," the author said, sounding exasperated. "We all know you have issues with hurting people's feelings."

Nathaniel, again, calculated the score. "That's a ten."

Bartimaeus shot up from his position on the floor. "Are you kidding me?!" His eyes turned red with fury. "_Ascobol_ got a better score than I did?"

Stephanie ignored him and, instead, turned to Nathaniel.

"You are now our official calculator because no one else likes doing math. You are automatically awarded a thirty-one."

The magician in question looked like he was about to squeal with joy. In fact, an almost inaudible peep escaped his lips before he went back to I'm-a-professional mode and straightened his tie.

"NEXT. Let's see it, Faquarl."

"TA-DA!" Faquarl jumped away from the front of his creation.

The judges all tilted their heads ninety degrees to the left.

"It's marvelous."

"Spectacular."

"Pfft. Amateur..."

Glare.

"Er, I mean --let's see synonym for good..."

No1: -pops out of nowhere no when?- Amazing, astonishing, astounding, excellent, remarkable...-pops back to nowhere/when-

Faquarl beamed. "I know. I try, I try."

Lizzie: TEN!

Kaitlin: Ten.

Foaly: -sigh- Ten...

"That would be thirty," Nathaniel concluded.

Stephanie said, "Faquarl's in the lead with his amazing rendition of the Eiffel Tower and thirty points. Next is Ascobol with his...stiletto and ten points. Last and least we have Bartimaeus with his pile of Legos and zero points."

Nathaniel cleared his throat purposefully. "What about me?" he asked. "Aren't _I_ technically winning?"

The author scratched her chin. "Well, I suppose you do automatically win..." She then proceeded to kick his Lego creation until it resembled Bartimaeus' pile.

The magician pouted.

"All right. On to Jabor." The host turned around to face him. "Um...Where are your Legos?"

Jabor sat on the ground picking his teeth with his little finger.

Everyone stared at him.

The djinni's hand dropped down from his mouth. "What? I was hungry."

The judges had had a five-second discussion.

Lizzie: Well...I'm going to have to give you a zero since nothing's there...I'M SO SORRY -cries-

Kaitlin: Zero.

Foaly: Look, it's obvious what I'm going to say...

Jabor growled. "I could have eaten one of you," he murmured suggestively.

Judges: -sweat drop- THIRTY.

Bartimaeus crossed his arms, mumbling something about filthy, good-for-nothing, cheap skates.

Jabor stuck his nose in the air and said, "You're just jealous, Bartimaeus."

For some reason Barty had no reply to that.

Collective gasp.

**All right, kiddos. LONG CHAPTER IS LOOONG.**

**Aherm.**

**So, I've been neglecting this story for such an extended period of time, I decided to give you a good and long one. Well, I suppose you should be the ones to tell me if it's worth reading. -HINT-**

**No, I haven't had writer's block in fact I have a list of what to do next, I've just been my usual lazy, forgetful self. So, because I don't want to have to think, tell me what I should do next. Apart from finishing the judging process on this contest.**

**1. Pottery-making contest. Yes, with a potter's wheel.**

**2. Lighthouse climbing contest. Yes, in the same lighthouse. And with Nathaniel.**

**3. Other. And don't just say, 'Oh, I want the other thing.' You're going to have to tell me what 'other' thing you want. **

**NB: If you don't know, look around the room you're in and suggest something random and creative. Please don't leave a review that consists of, 'Oh, I'm such a terrible person, I know. But I have no advice for you. Update soon.' You know what? You are a terrible person. I will scorn you for as long as you live if you tell me to update soon without giving me your opinion on anything. AT LEAST tell me you like the story. Notice I didn't say 'if you like it or not'.**

**I've gotta cut down on the author's comments... **


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